Oh, the Games We Play
by ItalianLifestyle
Summary: Amaimon is not interested in Rin, so he turns his attention to his brother. PWP.


**Author Commentary: **I've recently gotten obsessed with this series and then got a ridiculously good idea for this from a certain someone, so now I have to write it. And I'm sorry if they seem OOC. This is my first time writing them.

**Title:** Oh, the Games We Play

**Characters:** Mephisto, Amaimon

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the anime or manga in any way shape or form. This is just fanfiction.

**Warning:** PWP, guy love, demoncest, yaoi, etc.

"Brother," Amaimon began, turning his gaze to the other demon in the room. His fingers were still circled around his eyes in those fake binocular/glasses/whatever-the-heck-they-were that annoyed Mephisto so much. Honestly, the man looked like a fool.

"What?" he asked after he had swallowed the delicious bite of cup ramen that he had been eating.

"This 'Rin' character... he bores me," Amaimon informed him, turning his uninterested gaze back to his boring half brother.

Mephisto let out a sigh. "That's because he hasn't been provoked. Give him a challege... say you go out to fight him, yes?" All he received to that was a deadpan stare, so he continued, "If that were to happen, he would get much more interesting because he would fight back and that would be fun."

After a moment of contemplation, Amaimon said, "I don't want to play with him."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you, then," Mephisto replied, flipping some of his hair out of his face and looking down at his paperwork. After all, with the position he was in with the school, he had a lot of paperwork facing him.

For all of five seconds after Mephisto looked away from him, Amaimon was quiet. Then he slowly put both hands on the desk and leaned into his brother's face. "Maybe you should teach me the ways of being fabulous," he suggested, wanting attention more than anything. It bugged him that everyone's attention was on Rin these days, no matter what he did. And Rin was nothing special, he didn't care what they said about the ineffectual, _boring_, sorry excuse for a half demon.

"I don't have time."

"Then why did you call me up here?"

"To entertain me."

"Well, how can I do that if you stare at papers all day?"

"I wouldn't stare at papers if you could enamor me with all you have to offer."

"Enamor you?" Amaimon asked, a half smile coming onto his face, but not relieving the dead look in his eyes.

"Maybe that wasn't the right word. Nonetheless, you have failed in that respect."

Amaimon made his way around the desk and stood behind Mephisto, leaning down to talk in his ear, "Can't I have a make up test...?"

Easily suppressing the shiver that threatened to run through his body, Mephisto turned his head to look at the Earth King. "I suppose I can give you a chance." He turned in his swivel chair—he really loved that thing, and could spin in it for hours when no one was watching—and faced Amaimon. "Your test starts now."  
>"I don't get time to study?"<p>

"No."

"Fine. And... what is the penalty if I cheat?" Amaimon was beginning to get into this game. Maybe it would even lead somewhere better than it ever had before. Using the tip of his nail lightly, he ran it along Mephisto's jaw, watching for reactions, and getting a hint of satisfaction at the way the demon's body stiffened to suppress any shudders. He moved to touch Mephisto's neck, dragging his nails along the flesh.

"You.. uhm... it... well, it depends on the severity...?"

"On my _whole_ test," Amaimon said, cutting through the strings holding on Mephisto's buttons and pulling open his shirt.

Mephisto frowned. "First of all, I'd be angry for you ruining my clothes. And then I'd have to find a suitable punishment or three for you."

Amaimon let a bit of a smile touch his lips again and returned to his teasing touches. "Now that's the demon I know and tolerate."

"You'll do more than tolerate," Mephisto growled, having had enough of the teasing. He pushed Amaimon back onto his desk, scattering papers everywhere.

"Will I?" Amaimon returned, looking Mephisto straight in the eye, with still not a hint of emotion in his own perpetually blank stare.

"Yes," Mephisto hissed lowly, doing his own popping off of buttons, though on Amaimon and not his own fabulous clothes. He'd have to send them off to a tailor to be fixed! It was an awful tragedy. Though... at least his own apparel wouldn't be tossed carelessly onto the floor like he was doing with those belonging to Amaimon.

After carefully removing his own vestments, Mephisto climbed onto the desk, hovering over the other demon and allowing his wild side to take over. He bit and teased across the most sensitive parts of Amaimon's body, tongue and teeth unrelenting in their quest to make Amaimon squirm. It wasn't long before said demon was starting to get uncomfortable in his lower regions, all of him loving the pure lust coming from the other spawn of Satan in the room.

Lips moving to right next to Amaimon's ear, Mephisto whispered, "Eins," and then pushed his first finger into his the demon below him. Amaimon's hands scrabbled to find purchase in something—he needed something to grab onto to keep him grounded. As the searched, he scratched at Mephisto's back, no doubt leaving marks, what with the length of his nails and all.

"Zwei," he continued, a second finger joining the first and slowly moving about, only serving to make Amaimon squirm worse and his nails dig in harder, rivulets of blood beginning to run down Mephisto's back, but it was in the demon's nature to enjoy blood, and so the fact that it was his own didn't change the fact that he was getting more turned on by the moment with the scent of it in the air and the scintillating feel of the pain shooting up his back.

"Drei." The third finger was added, finishing the first bit with haste, knowing that it would still hurt Amaimon when he thrust in, but he did it anyway, enjoying the sounds of pain that managed to escape the other.

They both gave into their carnal desires, bodies pressing together, while blood, sweat and other bodily fluids ruined the papers on the desk. Sounds of both pain and pleasure were emitted on part of both of them, neither caring if they were discovered, too lost in each other and the moment to care.

And then the finale came, both demons climaxed, adding to the mess that the room had become and filling the air with the scent of sex.

Once his body had calmed, Mephisto stood and wiped himself clean with Amaimon's clothes before tossing them back to him. He put on a robe so that he could look decent and hide what would no doubt be scars marring his fabulous body—but no worries. It was worth it. Besides, he was a demon and so those wouldn't remain for too long.

"So... do I pass?" Amaimon asked, sounding curious, but not moving from his place sprawled out on the desk. He was finding it to actually be rather comfortable.

"With flying colors," Mephisto replied, a devilish grin spreading across his face.


End file.
